BL: You mean you don’t play air guitar and make sexy faces in the mirror like the rest of us?

MT: Well yeah, of course I do. Why do you think I got into this business in the first place?

BL: (laughs, flips through notes) So Marcus, I spent some time reading your past interviews, and I found a surprising lack of depth.

MT: Gee, thanks.

BL: No no, it was the writers’ fault, not yours. I just found a lot of facts there, not a lot of feelings, you know? We know almost nothing about what…goes…on…in…there (pounds hand on heart three times).

BL: Well, let’s get up close and personal, then. Why don’t you tell us whether or not there’s a special place you go when you get angry.

MT: (pause) Wow, interesting question. (pause) Actually, that’s easy. I go to the basement of my house in Big Fork, Montana – I live in LA but I’ve been going out to Montana as often as I can – and I pick up my guitar and start writing. I have this whole recording studio set up in a spare bedroom, but for some reason I get my best writing done in the basement, just sitting on a fold-out chair next to the furnace. Weird, right? But I find myself there most afternoons.

BL: Most afternoons? I didn’t realize you were such an angry guy.

MT: (laughs) That’s not what I meant, and you know it, Ben. I try to write every day if I can. But when I’m frustrated or angry, for any reason, playing my music is a great outlet.

BL: So back in LA, did you ever head down to the basement after a nasty spat with your ex-wife, Bianca?

MT: (sounding, well, a bit angry for the first time during the interview) Hey, I thought we had an agreement: no personal questions.

BL: What could be more personal than your songwriting process, Marcus?

MT: You know what I mean. Let’s not talk about Bianca.

BL: How about new love interests? Anybody on the horizon? You mentioned in a recent interview that you’ve been, let’s see here (looks at notes)…“admiring someone from afar.” Dare I ask?

MT: You’re not going to get a name out of me, if that’s what you mean, Benjamin.

BL: It’s not that adorable nanny, Ryan, is it? She is stunning, Marcus. And so good with the kids.

MT: (raising his voice) Again, we’d said no personal questions. Ryan is a great person, but our relationship is strictly professional.

BL: A great person? So you’ve gotten to know her, then? She’s only been on the tour six days, but you’ve still carved out some alone time, haven’t you?

MT: (removes microphone from lapel) Okay, then, that’s it for today. Nice to see you, Mr. Little. I hope you got what you wanted. Not. (walks away)

BL: (calling after Marcus, his voice echoing in the empty room) It’s only a matter of time, Marcus Troy! The chemistry is undeniable! (muttering to himself) Anyone can see it. She’ll be Mrs. Marcus Troy inside of six months. (nearly silent) Damn it, I know true love when I see it. I can spot it from a mile away.

The only thing rock star Marcus Troy loves more than making music is his kids. So finding just the right nanny to take on tour with them is important—as is proving to his ex he deserves joint custody. Falling for his employee wouldn’t just be fodder for the paparazzi: it could ruin everything.

Too bad the perfect nanny turns out to be beautiful, vibrant Ryan Evans. Ryan’s never left her small Montana town before, so she jumps at the chance to see the country. And as much as accidental fame doesn’t gel with shy Ryan, what does is her relationship with her capricious, smoking-hot, shockingly good dad of a boss. Marcus is nothing like what she expected. But when the whole world’s watching them, will life in the spotlight be too hot to handle?

About the Author:

A reading specialist with a masters degree in Early Childhood Education, Farrah Taylor has taught first grade in Northwest Montana for over a decade. She is thrilled to be publishing her first novel, Love Songs for the Road. Farrah, a lifelong music lover who has spent far too much of her savings on concert tickets, is glad to finally be seeing a return on the investment. She lives with her husband, Ty, and son, Latham, in Polson, Montana.